


Nikola Teaches Jon Her Skincare Routine

by FicticiousTeeth



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Canon Asexual Character, Hand Jobs, Light Bondage, Mildly Dubious Consent, Other, lotion, non-consensual mousturizing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:15:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24434182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FicticiousTeeth/pseuds/FicticiousTeeth
Summary: What if Nikola Orsinov went through with her plans to moisturize the Archivist? What if he wasn't so against the idea after all? What do mannequin hands feel like, and are they good at applying lotion? All these questions and more will be answered in the following tale!
Relationships: Nikola Orsinov/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 6
Kudos: 28





	Nikola Teaches Jon Her Skincare Routine

**Author's Note:**

> This was 100% inspired by that one [tweet](https://avocadojoner.tumblr.com/post/618565790414864384/yeah-that-tracks) about Nikola Orsinov and the lotion. (I know I would have no complaints). I just wanted to write something less upsetting than what I've seen out there. And in the end, isn't it enough to want to be lotioned up by a scary sexy mannequin lady entity? I sure think so.

Jon had only been tied to the chair in solitude for a few hours now. Well, he’d prefer to pretend it was solitude, when in reality the dark room he was being kept in was crowded with haunting wax figurines. Each one of them seemed designed to make uncomfortable eye contact with their shiny, unblinking gaze. Upon first glance, each was almost familiar, but not made well enough to be recognizable as any specific person’s likeness.

Their human-adjacent appearance, mixed with the oddly colored carpet and dark drapes drawn around the room’s edges, made the place feel foreign in a near nostalgic way. The glassy eyes and the musty, preserved smell of the room brought back hazy memories of a museum field trip Jon had taken as a child. But no matter his effort, all of the details beyond the taxidermied wildlife and carpeted hallways were just beyond recollection, making the experience feel distinctly familiar and unreachable: a dreadful dejavu. 

Jon knew that it was only a matter of time before Nikola returned and made good on her promises. He strained against the rope binding his arms, legs, and torso to the chair. He bit and spat at the gag in his mouth in an attempt to dislodge it. He could feel the rough fibers of the rope burning into his ankles and wrists, but he kept struggling until he was weak and out of breath. He slumped back into the chair, his head hanging in fatigue.

The door creaked open and he turned to see the mannequin body of Nikola returning. She was carrying a box of what he could only assume was lotion, and could only hope was nothing more than lotion.

“Hi, Jon!” She said, her stiff plastic face reflecting her cheery tone. “I’ve brought a selection of products for us to try!”

Jon protested through his gag, but Nikola seemed to take that as enthusiasm. 

“Hmm, I think we’ll start off with cucumber eucalyptus,” she said, untying Jon’s right wrist from the armrest, and rolling up his sleeve. He did attempt to yank his arm away from her the second it was free, but Nikola’s cold hand was even more firm than the rope had been.

She held up his wrist for inspection. “Now Jon, you  _ can’t _ be rubbing your skin raw, we need it to be in perfect condition!” She delicately applied some cucumber eucalyptus lotion to his rope burns, and although it stung at first, it gradually started to cool the irritation. As she worked the moisturizer higher, she let out a gasp and squeezed his arm. 

“Jon! What has left all of these awful scars on you!”

Jon mumbled something indiscernible through his gag. After a second more of muffled noises, Nikola removed the handkerchief from Jon’s mouth. “Now, what was that you were saying?”

“Worms. Lots of… worms.” Jon began to stretch out the corners of his mouth where the fabric had pressed into it.

“Ahhh, I see. Well, I’m going to have to figure out just how far these worm marks go. These could significantly complicate things.”

She began to unbutton Jon’s shirt. While this development was unpleasant, it wasn’t surprising. Jon knew that undressing was going to take place at some point during this process, even if he was against the idea. Nikola guided the sleeves down Jon’s arms and even untied his other wrist in order to fully remove as much of his shirt as she could. The bottom half of it was still scrunched up around his waist from where the rope kept it pinned to his torso, and for the time being Nikola left it there. 

“Oh, this will not do,” Nikola said, grabbing another bottle of lotion from the box she’d set on the floor. “Not only are you absolutely peppered in worm holes, but it looks like you haven’t taken care of your skin in months! It could take weeks just to get your skin in peeling condition!”

Jon grimaced at the reminder that this was all so that his skin could be worn as a costume, but he was quickly distracted by plastic hands gripping his left wrist and rubbing vanilla scented lotion into his skin. Her hands were unnaturally cold, made more uncomfortable by the cool lotion and the chill of the room against his exposed chest.  


“So what you’re saying is that I’m going to be stuck here for a lot longer than you originally intended,” Jon said, hiding the mixture of relief and disgust the idea left him with. 

“Oh my, yes,” Nikola said in her toothache sweet voice, her hands slowly moving up Jon’s arm. 

With this in mind, Jon settled back into the chair to focus on his escape plan. There was no way that Nikola would actually be able to keep him here for any substantial length of time. As terrifying as it might be to stay bound in this uncanny museum for much longer, he knew that someone from the institute would find him before any physical harm would come to pass. Martin would definitely notice that he was gone, and Elias probably knew he was kidnapped from the beginning, and he was just taking his sweet time in doing anything about it. All Jon had to do was sit this out and wait, either for a better opportunity to escape or for Elias to reluctantly send someone to collect him. 

Nikola had finished with Jon’s left arm and had returned to cover the remainder of his right arm. 

“So,” he said, his voice uneven and awkward against the silence, “what makes my skin so special for the Unknowing?”

“Well… It’s all about the symbolism, you see?” He could hear the smile in her voice as she continued her work, even if the painted lips on her smooth face remained still. “You and your Eye are our enemy. We do not like to be known, to be seen, to be understood. I had hoped you’d be smart enough to put that together, archivist!” She punctuated her lilting statement by bringing both of her hands up to his shoulders to knead more lotion into his skin. She paid careful attention to his scars.

Jon drew a deep breath, but resisted getting comfortable. “I- Uh, yes. I figured as much. I was just wondering if there was any more to it than that.”

“Well, if I’m being honest, you aren’t strictly necessary for this ritual. There are plenty of skins we could use, but I thought yours added a wonderful… touch.” She let out a series of high pitched giggles and added more lotion to his shoulders. Nikola’s grip was strong enough to hold him in place without the ropes, but with how her hands were finally warming up, it was almost pleasant.

“Then why are you bothering to do all of this?” Jon said, his straining tolerance showing in both his tone, and the compulsion laced into each syllable.

Nikola just laughed as a shiver passed through her body. “Oh, Archivist, do you really think that’s going to work on me?” She let her hands drift onto Jon’s chest, where they continued to massage the moisturizer into his muscles. Despite her comment, the question must have had some effect on her, as afterwards she leaned in, and said in a soft voice “I think you’re very interesting Jon. I can’t wait to take you apart.” With this she dragged her fingers down his chest, leaving little red lines in their wake and drawing a hiss out of Jon. He tried to ignore the sparks that ran down his body, the mixture of pain, fear, and pleasure warming him up even in the drafty museum storage room.

Nikola ran her hands back up Jon’s front as if smoothing it over the lines she raised. Her touch was light, and tended to his skin with careful reverence. Even though her painted face remained the same, Jon knew she was smiling wider than before. 

Somehow, Jon had run out of questions. For the first time in a while, he didn’t want to know what her gruesome plans for bringing about the apocalypse were, or how she planned on skinning and preserving his body. Instead, Jon sat in the silence, focusing on his breathing, and the feeling of skilled, inhuman hands working on his muscles. She was indiscriminately rubbing lotion into every pore she could reach, covering his collarbone, sternum, and ribs, even passing over his nipples just to make sure she didn’t miss an inch. Jon had to hold his breath in places, and force himself to relax. It was overwhelming.

She pulled more of his shirt down near the ropes around his waist, and she pushed it back from where it was bunched up against him. She leaned down and switched out the vanilla scent for cherry blossom, and began to apply the moisturizer to his newly exposed sides and stomach. 

It was hard to move past the rigid feeling of her inhuman fingers. It had been a while since anyone had touched Jon like this, partially by his own indifferent design. He was never quite interested in other people physically. He’d had plenty of encounters with people, and while some of them were quite enjoyable, there was never any drive or motivation to seek out further contact. But even with these past experiences playing in the back of his mind, nothing was comparable to Nikola’s unnatural hands. 

The uncanny plastic pressed the chilly lotion into his sides, just below his ribs. Even though the surface had warmed up to the same temperature as his skin, Nikola’s palms were hard as they slid down his body. The feeling was as distinct as it was difficult to describe. The closest analogy that came to mind was to combine the impersonal, clinical strangeness of a doctor’s touch, with the purposeful, delicate mending of artifact restoration. 

Suddenly, Nikola’s hands stopped. After a second’s pause, she untied the rope binding Jon’s waist to the back of the chair so she could work the lotion into the red marks underneath its path. Jon relaxed, his breathing easier without the constricting pressure. His arms were still free, but he knew better than to run. He let them rest where they had been tied earlier, and let himself find some enjoyment in the process.

“Thank you so much for being cooperative, Jon,” Nikola said, her face turning up to look at his, “I know this must be very  _ strange _ for you.” She paused for effect, although the pun was not lost on Jon. “I don’t want to make this any more unpleasant than it needs to be.”

It took a few moments of silence for Jon to realize she was expecting a response from him. “It’s fine, I suppose. At least you didn’t put Breekon and Hope in charge of this job.”

At that Nikola let out a loud, high pitched laugh, and brushed a phantom tear from her painted-on eye. “And here I was, thinking you had no sense of humor.” Her hands reached lower, rubbing the soft skin just above his hips. “No, I would never entrust those two with a delicate task like this.” 

Jon’s pulse lurched when she began to undo his belt. Rationally he understood that this was inevitable, but it still surprised him to hear his belt buckle clink against the wood of the chair. In one swift motion Nikola yanked his pants down to his ankles, his boxer briefs mercifully staying in place. She glanced back up at him and gasped in shock. 

“I almost forgot!” She double checked that both of his arms had been properly moisturized before once again securing them to the armrests, this time using colorful knotted handkerchiefs that she procured from inside her ringmaster’s coat like a cheesy magician. “That should help with the chafing and keep you from running off on me!” Jon tested their strength and was not surprised to find that his new restraints were just about as strong as the rope from before. He sighed.

Nikola switched scents to a peach mango, and began to spread more lotion on his calves, just above where his pants rested on the floor. His body felt warm where the lotion had been applied, and Jon focused on something else to try and ignore the mesmerizing pressure of Nikola’s hands moving their way up his legs. He stared at Nikola’s velvet ringmaster suit and her lifeless eyes that were focused intently on her work.

He didn’t want to admit how good it felt to be touched like this, but it was clear he didn’t have to. Nikola could hear every hitched breath and muffled gasp that escaped Jon. Even more, she could see him tense up and relax, his underwear growing strained. She could pinpoint exactly which spots warranted a response from him. Nikola began to toy with him, spending extra time working on his muscles and creeping up his legs. Jon may not have needed such thorough care in moisturizing his skin, but it wasn’t every day Nikola had an Archivist in her hands that was so pliant and responsive.

When her hands reached just above his knees, Jon shut his eyes, unwilling to see Nikola’s hands rise any further. He tried to calm his racing heartbeat, and pretend that he was unaffected, if only to save himself whatever pride he had left. Nikola didn’t stop, of course, continuing to massage lotion into the tops of Jon’s thighs. Her hands teased at the soft skin lower down, but her fingers never stayed long. She stopped just below the hem of his boxer briefs.

“Jon? Are you still there?” she asked, tilting her head and looking up at him expectantly.

Jon let out an exasperated breath and opened his eyes, replying “Yes, I’m still here.”

“Oh good! I was just thinking that maybe I should give you a break. You seem quite overwhelmed, and since you’ll be here with us for a while, we could take things… slow.” She punctuated this by digging her hands into Jon’s thighs in a way that stung and sent sparks down Jon’s legs. He let out a soft, barely concealed noise and bit his lip.

“I mean, I couldn’t  _ possibly _ expect you to be enjoying something like this.” She moved one hand to grip his hip, gently placing her thumb beneath the waistband of his underwear, and with her other hand she moved it further between his legs, still only touching one of his thighs. Nikola glanced down at Jon’s hard dick and back up at him, her expression unchanged but her demeanor smug with delight. 

When Jon stayed quiet, she leaned in and held his face gently. “I’ll give you two options, my little Archivist: Either I leave right now, and let you stew in here until I think you’re ready to continue, or you let me finish as much of you as I can reach right now. Does that sound fair?”

Jon let out a breathy “Yes.” 

“Alright then,” she said, trailing her hand down Jon’s neck and chest, coming to rest right right above his crotch. “What will it be?” 

Jon swallowed and hesitated. The choice was obvious, but it took some effort to get out. “Keep going,” he said, averting his gaze.

“Excellent,” Nikola said, before grabbing the bottle of lotion and climbing into Jon’s lap. 

Jon jumped in his seat and blurted out “W-what are you doing?” while trying to get away from the mannequin who was putting her legs through and underneath the armrests so she could straddle him. 

“Well I have to cover your back, or as much of it as I can reach, anyways. Did you expect me to untie you and risk an escape?” She settled down onto him, positioning herself right on top of Jon’s hard cock. He groaned, closing his eyes, and resisted pressing himself further into her. 

He was quite surprised at how light she was. He knew she was only a mannequin, but the physical feeling of her hard, imitation of a human form resting on his lap was something he couldn’t have prepared for. 

“Come on now,” Nikola said, tilting his chin up and back so she could rub lotion on his neck. His breathing went shallow as her hands rubbed at the tendons on the back and sides of his neck, ultimately coming to rest on his throat. He couldn’t look anywhere except her face as she shifted in his lap, making his cock twitch. The mango smell coming from her hands, mixed with all of the other sweet scents covering his body was overpowering. He almost wasn’t sure this was real.

“You are being so good for me,” she said, guiding Jon to lean forward so she could rub lotion onto his upper back. She pressed her rigid hands into all of the tense knots in his back, formed from weeks of poor sleep and excessive stress. His shoulders began to droop and he even rested his head on Nikola’s shoulder. The velvet of her ringmasters suit was soft against his cheek.

Every so often she would shift around to better reach a spot lower down and with each movement came friction against Jon’s neglected cock. It was leaking, making a damp spot where it strained against his boxer briefs. He so badly wanted to press up against her but instead he gripped the armrests and tried to ignore his embarrassing desire. Nikola, however, was more than happy to provide, as she moved in closer, grinding her hips in his lap in order to reach more of his lower back. Jon did his best but he couldn’t suppress all of the small moans that dripped from his lips into the crook of Nikola’s neck. 

Just as he was starting to lean into her and seek relief from her teasing rhythm, Nikola lifted off of him, and held herself hovering just above his lap. Jon groaned in frustration, and leaned against the back of the chair. 

“My, you’re quite worked up, aren’t you?” Nikola carefully extricated herself from the chair, and took a second to admire her handiwork. Jon’s face and neck was flushed, and he was breathing heavily. His long hair was a mess, and his lips were chewed on from holding back so many little noises. She was almost finished taking him apart. 

“Now, I think I’m forgetting something. Jon, was there something you wanted me to do for you?”

“Yes,” he said, straining in his seat.

“If there’s something you need you’re going to have to ask me like a good little Archivist.” 

Jon swallowed his last shred of pride, and asked “ _ Nikola, please let me come. _ ”

Unlike before, the compulsion in this statement caused the mannequin to lurch forward. She had to brace herself against the chair for a second to try to fight off the urge to finish him then and there. No, she was going to take this at her own pace. She knelt between the Archivist’s legs and drew him from his briefs. He was already slick with anticipation, but she still poured more lotion onto her hand. With the first stroke, Jon made the first unhindered, genuine noise of pleasure since they’d begun. She continued at a leisurely pace, enjoying how easy it was now to pull the eager moans from him. The Archivist’s voice was truly something to behold. 

It wasn’t long before Jon was nearing the edge. His skin was warm, and although Nikola’s hands were very much occupied with something else, he could still feel the ghostly imprint of them working the tension from his muscles. Her pace on his cock had sped up, and despite how hard and unyielding her plastic hands were, the generous portion of lotion and the twisting she did at the head of his cock was more than enough. 

Just as Jon began to tense up, Nikola stopped. She laughed as he seized up and strained against the restraints. He started begging incoherently, stammering cut off pleas and arching up towards her. She put her hand back on his cock and started up a fast, relentless pace that had him sobbing as he came apart seconds later, his whole body shaking and collapsing into the weight of the chair. It was so strong and surprising that it shorted out his senses, and for a few seconds he didn’t know who or where he was. 

He came back slowly, to Nikola’s grinning face staring up at him. Her smile almost seemed wider than when he’d last seen it, but he was sure that was impossible. She put a hand on his face, and said “You did a wonderful job. You were so good for me, my little Archivist.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This was my first explicit fanfiction (and also the first fic I ever got around to finishing) so let me know what you think! I'm open to any feedback or constructive criticism!


End file.
